


first wife

by gotham_ruaidh



Series: Gotham Writes for Imagine Claire & Jamie [96]
Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-26 01:23:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16209728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotham_ruaidh/pseuds/gotham_ruaidh
Summary: What if Claire already knew Jamie had married Laoghaire, when she went back to the 18th century?





	first wife

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted at [Imagine Claire & Jamie](https://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/178699852209/it-always-bothers-me-a-bit-that-claire-didn-t-know) on tumblr

Claire could only gape as she watched Jamie sheepishly pull on fresh hose and buckle his shoes, his hands still shaking.

No wonder – with both of them still terrified that the past hour had been nothing but a cruel dream. That the person they had longed for – pined for – cried for – and at times raged at for twenty long years, would just disappear.

So much had been said, in the rush to catch up. Cautiously sharing glimpses of long-guarded hearts. Simple words to succinctly summarize the deepest emotions.

Brianna.

Willie.

Frank.

Culloden.

Boston.

But not one name that Claire had expected.

“Jamie?”

He was standing now, shrugging into the coat hung on a peg by the back door.

“Claire – I didna mean for ye to think that I was…ordering ye to come wi’ me to the tavern, only – ”

“Why do you live alone?”

He buttoned the last button, then quickly crossed the room to sink back into his chair. “What do ye mean?”

Fresh tears shone in her eyes – but her chin jutted out defiantly, her back ramrod straight.

“Where is she?”

His heart turned to ice. “Who?”

“Laoghaire,” she spat. “Your wife.”

Jamie would have fainted again, had he not been pinned in place by Claire’s unblinking eyes.

At that split second, he captured one of the mental pictures that must be like the photo-graphs Claire had brought him. Freezing that second in time, so that he could return to it again and again later – the flames crackling in the hearth, the play of light on Claire’s gray traveling cloak, the surge of shame and terror in his heart.

To ask Claire how she knew would be to insult her. To push her away. And God damn it, he wanted nothing more – would stop at nothing – to be close with her again.

Deflated, he folded his hands on his knee, watching skin stretch over the faded pink scars on his left knuckles. The joints Claire’s capable hands had healed, so many lifetimes ago.

“She lives in Balriggan. In the house of her second husband – the one before me. It’s just a few miles from Lallybroch. Close enough for Jenny and Ian to look in on her.”

Claire turned her head to look away; the late afternoon sun ignited her profile. Fierce. More beautiful than he remembered.

“She has two daughters – Marsali and Joan. They’re no’ mine. But I feel they’re my responsibility.”

“Nobody has ever had to be your responsibility.” Her voice was cool. Flat. “Yet you find people to make your responsibility. Like Fergus.”

“Like you,” he countered.

She pressed her lips together.

“I dinna live wi’ her because I dinna love her. It was a mistake, the marriage.”

He sighed, drawing from the deep well of regret that lived somewhere within his chest.

Time stretched, heavy and silent. She looked out at the back of the printshop – eyes trailing over the press, the sheaves of paper, the bags of ash. He watched her size it all up, knowing that she was making a thousand simultaneous decisions, memories of their wedding night flashing before him – standing naked before her for the first time, feeling her fingertips trail teasing circles on his back, down his arm…

“But you only married two years ago.”

“We did.”

“What on earth happened?”

Now she turned to face him. He was powerless to look away.

“I needed someone – someone to anchor me, here in Scotland. She had a family. I had never had a family. Never had my bairns wi’ me.”

He swallowed. Feeling his life pivot.

“I turned to her, needing companionship. Comfort.  And she turned away from me, Claire.”

Tears and cold lips in the marriage bed. Shoulders shrinking away from an embrace in the kitchen. Empty arms in the darkness.

Claire stood, stepped over to the cot, and sat on the end, patting the empty space beside her. He was there within five heartbeats.

She had left her right hand on the quilt between them. Carefully he lay his hand atop hers, the cool iron of her ring – his ring – growing warmer with his touch.

“You need touch, don’t you?” she whispered. Shifting her hand so that they were palm to palm. Instantly he threaded his fingers through hers.

He could only nod. Watching the magic of their hands together. Something out of a dream.

“Claire – why have ye come back?”

Her fingers curled; he held them tighter.

“Have ye come back to be my wife again? Or only to bring me word of my daughter?”

He lifted his eyes – met hers. Matched hers. Wanting nothing but forever with her.

“I came back now because…” she swallowed. “Because before, I thought you were dead.”

“So? he challenged. “Do ye mean to say that ye would have come earlier, had ye found out I wasna dead? Because I promise ye, Claire, I tried hard enough to die.”

“I looked for you, you know. I had help – but I looked for you. I found you in Ardsmuir. Then I kept looking, and found you in Edinburgh – found you here. And then I looked some more, and found the record of your marriage.”

He started to pull away his hand. She grabbed it. Held on.

“I knew. And I didn’t care, Jamie. If I could find you, speak with you – then I told myself that would be enough.”

“And is it?”

With her free hand, she cradled his face.

“It’s not.”

He turned his head. Kissed her palm. Eyes locked on hers.

“Whoever you are, James Fraser – I still want you.”

“Oh, Claire.” His voice cracked. “I’ll have ye any way I can.”

“Always,” she whispered, and pulled him in for a kiss.


End file.
